


Happy Paws

by Sholio



Category: White Collar
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Pets, Pre-Series, Puppies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-20
Updated: 2016-10-20
Packaged: 2018-08-23 13:37:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8329879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sholio/pseuds/Sholio
Summary: Having found out that the FBI agent chasing him has a puppy, Neal can't resist trying to make friends with it.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LeesaPerrie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeesaPerrie/gifts).



As soon as he found out the FBI agent chasing him had a puppy, the part of Neal that couldn't resist tweaking Peter's chain made him decide to make friends with it.

He thought this was going to require a whole lot more stealth than it actually did. As it turned out, Burke and his wife put their puppy in a doggie daycare while they were at work; the dog -- which was apparently called Satchmo -- was too young to be left alone all day.

So all Neal had to do was get a part-time job at Happy Paws Dog Grooming & Boarding.

It turned out they were always in need of volunteers to walk dogs and clean cages. Neal didn't care if he was paid or not -- in fact, probably better if he wasn't, since it meant he wouldn't have to burn one of Mozzie's spare social security numbers on a minimum wage job at a dog grooming business.

"Nick Brooks" came in three times a week. Everyone liked him, particularly the dogs. He spent four or five hours petting dogs and puppies, taking them for walks, and not incidentally spending as much time as he could with the Burkes' Lab puppy.

Satchmo loved him. Neal made extra sure of this by always having a treat or two tucked into his pocket, which he slipped out when no one was looking. 

He wasn't expecting to have as much fun as he did. He spent most of his life planning high-profile heists and sipping champagne in thousand-dollar-a-night hotel rooms. Putting on comparatively scruffy clothes and getting covered with dog hair felt like slipping out of Neal Caffrey's identity and slipping into one that was a little more ... well ... 

Down-to-earth. Ordinary. Domestic. He wasn't sure. All he knew was that, while he hadn't expected it in the slightest, the dog volunteer job filled a hollow in his life that he hadn't even known was there.

Four months after Neal started, the Burkes pulled Satchmo out of the doggie day care. The young dog was old enough now to spend the day at home without making any messes, and Peter's wife had arranged her work schedule so she could spend a couple of hours in the middle of the day working from home, so that Satchmo wouldn't have to be alone all day.

Neal dropped his schedule down to one day a week, but he kept coming in for another few weeks anyway. However, when he found himself sneaking into the Burkes' backyard to visit Satchmo when no one was home (the dog was delighted to see him) he decided it was time to maybe go check out the theft possibilities in Europe for awhile.

He honestly didn't think Satchmo would remember him. It came as a big surprise, but a pleasant one, the first time he was in the Burkes' house after getting the anklet, when the now-full-grown Lab greeted him with a frantically wagging tail.

"He really likes you," Burke's wife said, laughing.

Neal stopped himself in the middle of scratching Satchmo's ears. "Is that unusual?" He wondered if he'd accidentally given himself away.

"Oh, no, he likes everybody. Still, he _really_ likes you."

He thought it might have been a factor in her decision to trust him so quickly. If so, nice job, Caffrey, he thought, mentally patting himself on the back. You never knew when it would pay off to lay groundwork for a con.

 

***

 

It was more than a year later when Peter was driving Neal down to the Burke townhouse for dinner and made a sudden, unexpected turn.

Neal grabbed the dashboard. "Peter, you know what that little lever on the steering wheel is for, right? It makes your turn signal blink. So other drivers know what you're up to."

"I have to pick up Satchmo from the groomer's. Almost forgot."

"That doesn't explain why you're driving like Mario Andretti."

Neal didn't actually put two and two together until Peter parked at the curb in front of a very familiar-looking building with a cheerful dog on the sign. His stomach sank.

"So how about I wait in the car?" he asked, slouching down in his seat.

Unsurprisingly, Peter wasn't about to let it go at that. "Why don't you want to go in? I know you're not allergic; you're always petting Satchmo."

"I just don't feel like it."

"That's your guilty look," Peter said, eyes narrowed. "That's your 'I stole a diamond necklace from this boutique' look. You didn't rob a pet groomer in the early days of your career, did you?"

"Peter, why on earth would I rob a pet groomer?"

"I don't know. I'm sure you had a reason. Come on, if we don't move it, El's famous meatloaf is going to be dried out by the time we get home. Up, up."

Neal sighed and sulked through the door a few steps behind Peter. Maybe if he kept his head down and his hat over his eyes ...

He almost got away with it. Almost. It had been the better part of a decade, after all. The receptionist and the assistant who brought out Satchmo on a lead were both people Neal didn't know. Peter was just finishing paying his bill when a cheerful voice called, "Nick!"

Neal recognized her instantly, in one quick glance from under the brim of his hat. Allison was the office manager who'd dealt with the volunteers. Of course she'd remember him. "So," he said quickly, planting a hand on Peter's back in an attempt to steer him toward the door. "Meatloaf, remember?"

Peter planted his feet and didn't move. "You're _definitely_ up to something."

"Nick!" Allison said again, swooping down on them. "I almost didn't recognize you, dressed like that. Oh my gosh, how long as it been?"

"Not nearly long enough, apparently," Neal muttered under his breath, pasting a bright smile on his face.

"You two know each other?" Peter asked, looking both suspicious and gleeful.

"Oh yes, Nick was one of our best volunteers. Always so friendly and so good with the animals." She leaned down to ruffle Satchmo's ears. "I remember little Satchmo was one of his favorites."

"Was he, now," Peter said, turning an intent stare on Neal.

"It's so good to see you." She pumped Neal's hand, then turned to Peter. "How do you two know each other?"

"We work together," Neal said before Peter could respond, "and we really have to be going, don't we, Peter?"

"This is so wonderful!" Allison enthused. "You should stop in and say hi to the dogs again."

"I will _definitely_ do that," Neal said, backing toward the door.

Outside on the sidewalk, as Peter unlocked the doors of the car and ushered Satchmo into the back, he said, "You volunteered as a pet groomer."

"Dog walker."

"In the same place where we take Satchmo. Where we used to board Satchmo, actually."

"Life's so full of coincidences sometimes," Neal said, climbing into the passenger's seat.

"You conned my dog," Peter said in a wondering tone.

"I did not!" Neal protested. 

Satchmo proceeded to undermine his argument by putting his head over the back of Neal's seat and shoving his cold, wet nose into Neal's ear.

"Erg. Satchmo, stop it."

"You _conned_ my _dog."_

There was a long silence as Neal tried to figure out a way to spin it that sounded less incriminating than the reality. He couldn't come up with an innocent-sounding explanation, though. At least not one he thought there was the slightest hope of Peter believing.

"What I can't understand is what you thought you'd get out of it," Peter said, in a tone that was still both amused and incredulous. "Make friends with the guard dog so you could get him to let you into the house? I hope you realized quickly how much good _that'd_ do."

"It was just to mess with you, mostly," Neal admitted.

"Huh. _That_ I believe."

As soon as they walked through the front door of the Burkes' townhouse, with Neal leading Satchmo on his leash, Peter announced, "Hey, hon, you're never going to guess what I just learned about Neal!"

It was going to be a long evening.

Still, Neal found himself wondering if it would be possible to get a dog-grooming business in Brooklyn added to his list of anklet radius exceptions. He wouldn't mind going in there occasionally, just for old time's sake.


End file.
